Lynda Hall
(email: lhall@chapman.edu) has been
teaching English at Chapman University in Orange, California, since 1986.She is currently working on her
dissertation, “Grounding the Figure of the Heroine: Understanding the Social
Norm of the ‘Other Women’ in Jane Austen’s Novels,” at Claremont Graduate
University.

Emma
does not like Jane Fairfax. We are given various reasons for this
dislike: Jane’s reserve, Emma’s jealousy, Miss Bates’s talking.
Perhaps Emma merely wants to retain control—wants to make the decision for
herself—since “‘it had been always imagined that they were to be so
intimate—because their ages were the same, every body had supposed they must be
so fond of each other’” (166-67). Regardless of Emma’s feelings, however,
Jane Austen clearly does like Jane
Fairfax.

There are few
characters in Austen’s novels depicted as quite so elegant and talented.
Even Emma admits to Jane’s positive attributes: “elegant, remarkably
elegant; . . . her face—her features—there was more beauty in them all
together than she had remembered” (167). Emma is not immune to sympathy
for Jane’s plight: “when she considered what all this elegance was
destined to, what she was going to sink from, how she was going to live, it
seemed impossible to feel any thing but compassion and respect” (167-68).
But Emma was still “sorry;—to have to pay civilities to a person she did not
like through three long months!” (166). Jane, in fact, remains in the
background of the novel, rarely even speaking for herself.

It is Jane
Fairfax’s story rather than Emma’s, however, that exposes the grim reality of
life for many women of the nineteenth century: the attractive and
accomplished but penniless young woman is not
rescued by a good man. She marries a man who in Austen’s other novels
would have been rewarded by a mindless flirt (Lydia Bennet) or an adulteress
(Maria Rushworth). Through Jane Fairfax’s story—her life-defining choice
between selling herself in the marriage market or the governess trade—Austen
subtly exposes the grim reality of life for many women who were handsome,
clever, but not rich. Jane
Fairfax, perhaps even more than the minor characters in Austen’s other five
novels, provides the author the opportunity to portray “the difference of
woman’s destiny” (384). By considering the focus of Jane Fairfax’s
education and the grim financial as well as psychosocial reality of her future
life as a governess, contrasted with her ultimate choice to marry a man who
acts contrary to social norms and treats her with disrespect, Austen exposes
the limitations faced by a poor woman with a genteel upbringing. Austen
shows us that women’s choices are grim: they must be sold in one market
or the other.

Emma is put off
by Jane Fairfax’s reserve, but that passivity is Austen’s way of depicting the
only socially acceptable behavior available to dependent women. Jane’s movement
is always controlled by others. She is “sought out” by Colonel Campbell
upon his return to England so that he can repay the kindness of her father
(163); she is educated by the masters in London at the Campbells’ expense; she
is sent back to her aunt and grandmother once Miss Campbell marries; she must
look to Mr. Knightley’s or Mrs. Elton’s carriages to transport her to various Highbury
engagements. Since she is “‘in such retirement, such obscurity, so thrown
away’” living with her aunt and grandmother (283), Jane Fairfax must tolerate
the attentions of the officious Mrs. Elton. Jane is financially dependent
and must be passive.

By contrast, Emma’s
financial independence allows her activity. When she does not wish to
walk or when the weather is inclement, she may choose to order her carriage.
She even offers to provide a servant and transportation for Jane when she is
determined to leave the strawberry-picking party at Donwell Abbey (362).
Emma actively involves herself in the lives of others, rejecting Jane’s
“coldness and reserve” (166). The most telling aspect of Emma’s
independence, of course, is her fortune, which gives her the option not to
marry. The contrast between Emma’s relatively active life and Jane
Fairfax’s submissive one is important since the main difference in their independence
rests solely on their income.

From the start,
independence is the key contrast between Emma and Jane—between a woman who can
choose her life and one whose choices are made for her. Richard Handler
and Daniel A. Segal consider the value of independence within the social
constructions of Austen’s world and compare the young man’s options to the
young woman’s:

In contrast to the
independence of an eldest son, younger sons “must be inured to self-denial and
dependence,” as Colonel Fitzwilliam puts it (PP 183). Because they are not born to independence, younger
sons must be placed “out” to make their way in trade or in the genteel
professions of the army, navy, law, or church, while daughters are placed “out”
to marry. Significantly, the term “to be out” is never applied to eldest
sons. This absence suggests that a person who is “out,” be it a woman in
want of a husband or a younger son in search of a living, is a person who lacks
a fixed position in society. (694)

Jane Fairfax, with all her
elegance and grace, is “out” on the market. She gives herself until the
age of twenty-one to be chosen by a wealthy suitor, then she puts herself “out”
in the governess trade.

Jane Fairfax’s
value then has little to do with her elegance and everything to do with her
lack of fortune. As she is coming to her own self-realization, Emma considers
the disparity between women of means and those without: “The contrast
between Mrs. Churchill’s importance in the world, and Jane Fairfax’s, struck
her; one was every thing, the other nothing” (384). Jane Fairfax is a
beautiful, accomplished, well-educated young woman, and while she is praised
for those attributes, she has no marketable value beyond her ability to earn
her keep. The rest of Highbury society enjoys her company and praises her
talents, but they do not assume she will remain in a genteel position. Mr.
Elton would never have considered the “accomplished” and “elegant” Miss Fairfax
as a potential mate since her accomplishments do not come with the requisite £10,000.
Emma and Mrs. Elton, women with fewer charms, are valued chiefly for their
income. Jane Fairfax appears to be what would be considered one of the
category of “‘surplus’ or redundant women” in the 1851 census (Davidoff and
Hall 453). She is an attractive, talented burden and becomes something to
be patronized and pitied by those (such as Emma and Mrs. Elton) who have means.

This
idea of the woman trained for redundancy who is destined to train other women
to be just as redundant is a “Catch-22” that Mary Wollstonecraft scrutinized in
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman.
Wollstonecraft describes “the neglected education of [her] fellow creatures,”
who are “rendered weak and wretched. . . . [L]ike the flowers which
are planted in too rich a soil, strength and usefulness are sacrificed to
beauty” (31). By “acquiring a smattering of accomplishments,” and
neglecting their intellectual and physical health, women are left only one
option through which to “rise in the world,—by marriage” (35). Where
Wollstonecraft is direct in her criticism of educational norms for women,
Austen is subtle. Just as Austen chastises Emma for enlarging Harriet
Smith’s world and potentially eliminating her chance for marriage, she questions
the kind of education a penniless orphan such as Jane Fairfax is given.

Although the
narrator tells us that Jane Fairfax has been educated in the best way possible
for a woman of her time—“her heart and understanding had received every
advantage of discipline and culture,” and “every lighter talent had been done
full justice to, by the attendance of first-rate masters” (164)—Austen shows us
that this education is inadequate. Wollstonecraft’s observations are also
relevant here. She points out that the “experts” on female education,
such as Rousseau, Dr. Gregory, and Dr. Fordyce, “have contributed to render
women more artificial, weak characters, than they would otherwise have been;
and consequently, more useless members of society” (53). Jane Fairfax
might be considered an example of a woman whom Wollstonecraft describes as
receiving a “careful education” (112) that prepares her mainly for ornamenting
the parlor. Although Wollstonecraft argues for a complete overhaul in the
educational system—educating girls alongside the boys, preparing them for an
intellectual and perhaps a professional life—Austen does not go this far.
Instead, she subtly exposes how destructive the current system is for a poor
woman with a genteel upbringing. The “first-rate masters” developing Jane
Fairfax’s “lighter talents” may have done her an injustice. Miss Campbell,
with a similar education and her
father’s money, was able to attract a marriage partner. With no fortune, Jane
Fairfax’s prospects are not as good.

A “careful
education” does not secure a woman’s independence. Dale Spender has examined
the correlation between the limitations on women’s education and the
concomitant limitations on their freedoms:

That literacy can be
dangerous in those who are ruled has been the deeply-held conviction of many of
those who have done the ruling. This is why “the masses,” the working
class, were so long denied education in England (see Raymond Williams, 1975);
this is why it was illegal in the United States to teach slaves to read and
write; this is why for so many centuries women were excluded from formal
education. (3-4)

Though Jane Fairfax’s education
has not been neglected, it has, like other women’s, been limited. So, at
the end of Volume II, Jane Fairfax’s implicit comparison of the governess trade
to the slave trade—“‘the sale—not quite of human flesh—but of human intellect’”
(300)—is not as outrageous as Mrs. Elton considers it to be. Because of
their limited education and forced dependence, poor but educated women were in
danger of being abandoned and forgotten. A poor woman’s education might
just restrict her options; if she could not marry, she would need to teach
other girls how to be just as useless as she had become.

A
woman like Jane Fairfax, with no wealth to bring to a marriage, had few options
or expectations other than to enter into the governess trade, or as Austen
describes it, to “complete the sacrifice, and retire from all the pleasures of
life, of rational intercourse, equal society, peace and hope, to penance and
mortification for ever” (165). Certainly, Colonel Campbell believed he
was doing Jane a great service “by supplying the means of respectable subsistance
hereafter” (164). Becoming a governess would no doubt be better than
living with her aunt and grandmother in their small rooms in Highbury. At
least her skills and education could be put to use. But let us consider
for a moment, strictly in financial terms, Jane Fairfax’s situation if she had
taken the position with the Smallridge family. According to Edward Copeland,
“For the position of governess, the most common employment open to a young
woman educated in all the fashionable refinements, Lady Diana Beauclerk paid a
woman in 1805, twenty guineas a year: that is, around $400 a year [in
1972 dollars], plus room, board, and a seat in the parlor” (“What’s a Competence?”
163). Copeland explains that with this minimal salary, the governess was
to afford “the expenses of the millinery and hairdressing necessary to put in a
genteel appearance in the parlor” (163). She would need to look and act
like a lady without the income a lady would normally have. (Mrs. Elton’s
fortune of £10,000 might earn £400 in annual interest—hardly comparable to the twenty
guineas [or thirty pounds] that was the annual salary of the governess.) Her
salary would no doubt leave little or nothing to put aside for a genteel
retirement or a dowry to attract a marriage proposal.

Beyond the
monetary disadvantages, the psychosocial consequences must be of grave
importance to a woman who equates this form of paid servitude to slavery.
As Mary Ann Mason Burki argues, the lack of independence that comes with
employment is the real evil: “being a governess produced great tensions
for a woman who valued her independence. Depending on her background, it
could represent either a secure step up into the middle class, or a dismal step
down. In either case she could exercise no individual control” (195).
As Copeland illustrates, the direction of the “step” was significant and could
be compared to “Newton’s law: the ground appears more threatening to
those who are falling towards it than
to those who are rising above it” (Women
Writing 25-26). Copeland also explains the humiliation a character
such as Jane Fairfax might feel: “Female employment looms as an
especially nettling matter for the genteel heroine, who, when she seeks
employment, unavoidably betrays her own class and all its urgent aspirations
for station” (Women Writing 161).
This dilemma is repeated in most women’s novels of Austen’s time: “Employment,
either vaguely or specifically imagined, represents in women’s novels a hostile
universe for the middle-class woman of whatever station” (Copeland, Women Writing 166). For Jane
Fairfax, a woman educated by the “first rate masters” of London, who has lived
as an equal among genteel families, rivals Emma Woodhouse in her beauty, and surpasses
her in accomplishments, the step down
is dismal indeed.

Within Emma, Austen gives us various
perspectives from which to judge the desirability of becoming a governess.
Those not horrified by Jane Fairfax’s prospects are those whose opinions we are
not allowed to trust. Mr. Woodhouse thinks that Jane should be content to
be “‘comfortably settled’” and to be to the Smallridges what “‘poor Miss Taylor’”
was to his family (387). Mrs. Elton relishes the fact that she can help
to secure a fine “‘situation’” for Jane where she would have “‘a right to move
in the first circle . . . , have as many rooms as [she]
like[s], and mix in the family as much as [she chooses]’” (301). But Mr.
Woodhouse and Mrs. Elton are ironic characters, and we cannot credit them with
carrying the author’s opinion.

Moving in the first circle, moreover, is
not to be equated with belonging to
that circle. The place of the governess would always be known, and Jane
would be consistently reminded of that place. As Copeland writes, “Paradoxically,
it is the [governess] position’s traditional association with gentility that
destroys it as a desirable, genteel resource. Food, housing, and a
genteel seat in the parlor may be in the contract, but self-respect is not” (Women Writing 175). After her
first evening employed as a governess, Mary Wollstonecraft writes in a letter
to her sister, “I cannot easily forget my inferior station—and this something
betwixt and between is rather awkward” (qtd. in Copeland, Women Writing 175). Mrs. Elton proclaims that Mrs. Smallridge
has wax candles in the schoolroom, emphasizing the genteel extravagance of the
Smallridge household, but Jane Fairfax understands the difference between being
a guest in the parlor and a servant in the schoolroom—wax candles
notwithstanding.

Jane Austen,
through her depiction of Jane Fairfax’s condition, understands the downward
trajectory of the governess. Mrs. Weston, who has been in Jane’s
situation and is now “‘settled in a home of her own, and . . .
secure[d] of a comfortable provision’” (11), is eager to match Jane with Mr.
Knightley, thus removing her from the governess trade. Even Emma, who “was
sorry;—to have to pay civilities to a person she did not like through three
long months!” (166), considers Jane’s future life as a governess to be needful
of “compassion and respect” and that “the sacrifices she had resolved on” were
“pitiable” and “honourable” (168). Jane’s description of her outlook is
telling: she will “dispose” of herself (300); her “mortification” would
be greater if she were with a rich family (301); the peddling of her talents is
compared to “‘the sale . . . of human flesh, . . . widely
different certainly as to the guilt of those who carry it on; but as to the
greater misery of the victims, I do not know where it lies’” (300-01). It
is safe to assume that Austen understands the “mortification” of a woman who
must sell her accomplishments to the highest bidder in the “‘governess-trade’”
(300).

Much has already
been written considering Austen’s views on slavery and abolition, especially in
regard to the passages in Mansfield Park
dealing with the Antiguan plantations of Sir Thomas. Although Edward Said
may have misread Austen’s concerns about slavery in her references to Antigua
(Fraiman), Austen does not appear to be radical in her thinking. As
Alistair Duckworth notes, “though [Austen] occasionally resembles [Mary]
Wollstonecraft in her awareness of women’s ‘enslavement,’ she shows no signs of
advocating alternative roles for women” (175). But Austen’s imagining
suitable or even fortunate marriages for her female characters does not mean
that she was unaware of the negative or even degrading aspects of those
marriages. Kuldip Kaur Kuwahara has traced the postcolonial symbols
within Emma, seeing Jane as a
manifestation of the Churchill jewels she will now wear. Although “Jane
Fairfax’s sparkling jewels reflect her inner joy and fulfillment,” they are also
a symbol of the power she acquires by trading herself to the highest bidder
(Kuwahara par. 8). Jane is aware that she must sell herself and realizes
that she must enter the governess trade because her engagement seems to have
fallen through. Jane’s reference to slavery may not equate the governess
trade with black slavery; rather, it may be hinting at a connection between the
governess trade and the marriage market—in neither case is the “victim” in
control of her destiny.

Jane Fairfax is
saved from “mortification” through her marriage to Frank Churchill. By
examining this relationship, however, we can see that this kind of marriage is
not necessarily a reward. Austen wraps up each of her novels with neat
marriages, and readers might assume she was supportive of the status quo.
Her depiction of marriage in general, however, shows that she does not see it
as a panacea for women. Women of means, such as Emma, could choose a
partner or even choose not to marry, but the majority of women needed to peddle
their accomplishments and whatever income they had to the few potential mates
they found in a limited society. As Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall
argue, “For women, marriage was indeed a ‘trade’ and as economic actors they
appear as shadows behind the scenes of the family enterprise” (273). While
the major characters in Austen’s novels achieve ideal marriages, uniting
genuine affection with practical considerations, many of the other marriages
are flawed—especially those where the women settle to secure their futures.
These minor marriages of convenience serve as examples of the reality many
women face: Lucy Steele marries the vain and pompous Robert Ferrars but
only tolerates his company once he has been awarded his mother’s inheritance;
Charlotte Lucas marries the odious Mr. Collins in order to secure a comfortable
future but finds a way to avoid her husband’s company by hiding in her back
parlor; Maria Bertram marries the bumbling Mr. Rushworth to secure her house in
town but later finds herself divorced and banished from her home. By
providing examples of convenient marriages that end with varying states of
unhappiness, Austen reveals that this marital pattern was something to resist.
The marriage of Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill is another such convenient
marriage since Frank’s character and behavior are so seriously flawed that he cannot
be considered a reward for a deserving woman.

While Jane
Fairfax may believe she has secured the highest bidder on the marriage market
in Frank Churchill, her hopes are dashed when he flirts with another woman—one
with a large income—and then publicly repudiates matches made “‘upon an
acquaintance formed only in a public place’” (372). Since Jane is rescued
from the “mortification” of Smallridge schoolroom by Mrs. Churchill’s timely
death, we might assume that all will be well. Evidence from the novel,
however, suggests otherwise. Frank Churchill may be “handsome, clever,
and rich” (5), but will he prove to be a good husband for Jane? Marriage
to Frank Churchill is only a good because it is better than the
alternative—paid servitude as a governess.

Jane and Frank’s
secret engagement and correspondence diminish Jane’s self-worth. Once her
secret engagement to Frank is made public, Jane confesses to Mrs. Weston, “‘I
never can be blameless. I have been acting contrary to all my sense of
right’” (419). Conducting a love affair without the sanction of the
community would have been considered an egregious wrong. Although Emma
absolves Jane for her part in the improper affair (“‘If a woman can ever be
excused for thinking only of herself, it is in a situation like Jane Fairfax’s’”
[400]), she condemns Frank for the secret engagement and double dealing—his “‘distinguish[ing]
any one young woman with persevering attention, as he certainly did—while he
really belonged to another’” (396). Yes, both parties are blamed for the
improper engagement, but the greater part of the responsibility is placed on
Frank. Thus Austen hints that Jane Fairfax’s choice is not one to
celebrate.

Frank Churchill
could hardly be considered among Austen’s exemplary heroes. Frank is
clearly the aggressor; Jane is passive and reserved. Frank teases her
with the gift of the piano—a public display that Jane has a difficult time explaining.
He taunts Jane by flirting with Emma. He is unwilling to relinquish his
potential fortune for the woman he loves, but he is also unwilling to give her
up even as the strain of their secret relationship is a clear burden on her
health and reputation. He is self-indulgent, narcissistic, and an
outright liar, but readers, even those who understand why Emma is not in love
with him, are often ready to forgive him since, in the end, he “does right” by
Jane Fairfax. Mr. Knightley, though clearly speaking through his
self-interest where Emma is concerned, seems to be the voice of the author in
his late assessment of the would-be rake:

“Frank Churchill is,
indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.—He meets
with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary
her by negligent treatment—and had he and all his family sought round the world
for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.—His aunt is
in the way.—His aunt dies.—He has only to speak.—His friends are eager to
promote his happiness.—He has used every body ill—and they are all delighted to
forgive him.—He is a fortunate man indeed!” (428)

Unlike the rakes in the other
novels, Frank is rewarded with a woman who might possibly improve him. He
is not saddled with a Lydia Bennet or Maria Rushworth. He keeps his Jane
and his fortune too.

But the strategy
of “saving” Jane from the life of a governess by a marriage to a defective
partner underlines Austen’s discomfort with Jane Fairfax’s choices. In a
novel where all the other couples are matched according to rank, demeanor, and amiability,
Jane and Frank are mismatched. Has Jane chosen Frank because she loves
him or because a life with him is better than a life with Mrs. Smallridge and
her ilk? Since Austen shows that Frank Churchill is not a good choice for
a woman who can choose, she may also
be showing that choosing such a man is really the last resort for a woman who
has few choices—and that this lack of choice is a social problem.

Jane
has made her choice. We cannot know whether she lives happily ever after,
but most of the evidence regarding Frank’s character argues that her life will
not be happy. Can Jane improve Frank, as Mr. Knightley hopes? We
know enough about human behavior to understand that such a plan for marriage
rarely works. It is likely that Frank will continue to flaunt decorum,
lie, tease, and find excitement in intrigue. Jane will not have an easy
time in her marriage. Given the alternatives in a world where the
portionless, accomplished young woman must be “out” on one market or another, however,
Austen shows that, in a world of few choices, Jane Fairfax has made the best
choice she could.

Works Cited

Austen, Jane.
Emma. Ed. R. W. Chapman.
3rd ed. Oxford: OUP, 1933.

Burki, Mary Ann
Mason. “Women in the Nineteenth
Century as Seen through History and Literature.” The History Teacher
8 (1975): 193-98.